It's 1930 and Prohibition is underway. Two rival gangs, the Olympians and the Titians, fight for control of New York City. Caught up in this battle is a young bootlegger named Percy Jackson, in love with a brilliant and beautiful architect named An...
It had promised to be a rather uneventful night. Hylla asked me to stay at the station and help her with some paperwork. It was boring as Hell. I would much rather be out on the streets, busting the heads of a crook or two. "Wake up!" Hylla shouted at me. I had nodded off at my desk, with my head resting on a pile of dispatches. "What is it?" I replied, yawning and rubbing my eyes. "There's been a shooting at Hephaestus Garage. The victim is in bad shape and is on his way to the hospital." "Who's the victim?" "His name is Charles Beckendorf. He's an employee at the garage." "Why was he shot?" "That's the million dollar question. I'm going over the scene of the crime to find out what I can. Why don't you come with me?" I resisted the urge to scream for joy. It was only my second day on the job and I already had my first big case.
Hephaestus and Esperanza Valdez were waiting for us in the shabby little living room of the apartment above their shop. Esperanza offered us coffee which I was in great need of. He was a big old man with an ugly, leathery face. She was a good deal younger than him; small and slight but nonetheless strong looking with small, alert brown eyes and her long dark hair worn in a neat braid. They had been awoken by the gun shots. Hephaestus went downstairs to see what was going on and found Beckendorf bleeding on the floor of the garage. By the time he got there, the gunman had escaped. He called for an ambulance and then called the police. "Mr. Valdez," Hylla asked him, "What is your relationship to Charles Beckendorf?" "He works for me," Hephaestus replied. "And how long has he worked for you?" "About five years." "What is your opinion as to his character?" "He's a good man and a hard worker. No better mechanic in the whole damn city. I've been thinking of taking him on as a partner." "Can you think of any reason why anyone might want him dead?" "No, beats me." "Can you describe the events which took place in your garage prior to the shooting?" "Well, we close down around 10:30. My wife and I went to bed around 11:00. Beckendorf sometimes stays late to close up. He needs the extra money. He got married a few months ago and his wife's now expecting a baby. We were woken up around midnight by the sound of gunfire and I rushed downstairs to see what was going on. There I found Beckendorf on the floor, bleeding from several bullet wounds. I called for an ambulance, then called you." "Mr. Valdez, if I asked you a question, will you be completely honest with me?" "Certainly, Officer." "Are you, anyone in your family, or anyone connected with your business involved with anything illegal? Perhaps you've been paying protection money to some gangster and didn't get around to it this month?" "No, definitely not." This response was quick and a bit defensive. Esperanza put a comforting hand on her husband's arm. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Valdez. We'll get back to you if we get any leads."
"He's hiding something," I said to Hylla as we were driving away from the garage. "What makes you think that?" Hylla replied. "He was perfectly cooperative when we asked him about what lead up to the shooting but when you asked if he was connected with anything illegal, he was quick to answer no, almost too quick. I think he's worried that this investigation will dig up something he wants to hide." "Perhaps I hit the mark when I asked if Old Man Valdez was paying protection money to some crook. Maybe he failed to pay up this month and poor Beckendorf got caught up in the crosshairs." "That's one theory."
Our next stop was Harlem Hospital.
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